A perspicacious order of salty yogurt lassi ($3) helped quell the burn while coating the innards for more gut-scorching dishes to come. When we responded 'spicyâ?� to the query of how we wanted our goat vindaloo ($15) prepared, our waiter laughed maniacally, arousing a deer-in-headlights look from my dewy-domed dining comrade. When the dish arrived, lamb replaced the goat, a mistake we didn't realize until after biting into the lean cubes of meat. Ultimately, the vinegar-based sauce, while wondrously fragrant, wasn't the curried conflagration we thought it would be. Gravy-free kadai chicken ($24), on the other hand, appropriated the right heat-to-flavor ratio thanks to skilled pinches of garam masala, turmeric, coriander and chili powder, not to mention a bevy of other spices. The menu says the dish is 'flamed at your table,â?� but no such pyromaniacal antics were involved; a whole chicken, hacked and cleaved into an impressively reddened and redolent heap, was tandoor-cooked and served sizzling on a hot plate. Of all the dishes we sampled, this was the highlight. Of the breads we nibbled, ghee-glistening naan ($2) was done right, while overly dry whole-wheat lacha paratha ($3) required an additional brush of clarified butter.

Indian desserts are typically heavy, as milk is a common ingredient. I was on the brink of exploding after just two bites of the cheese rounds in the creamy ras malai ($4), though I did enjoy it as a dessert leftover the following night. Gulab jamun's ($4) doughy balls were a somewhat lighter, though equally pleasing, ending. Properly frothy Madras coffee ($2) was, you guessed it, a heavy and creamy beverage.

The restaurant may have a name shortened for the attention-deficit age in which we live, but prolonged bouts of lethargy and lingering are to be expected, given the nature of the cuisine. To India 4U, we say: BCNU.